Roller Boy

by Strykowski, Marcia; Strykowski, Marcia;

  “I like it, too,” Mateo finally said. He was surprised that this perfect-looking girl could ever have problems, that she was actually human.

  Hayley smiled again, her braces twinkling. Mateo watched her skate across to the other side. A big clock on the wall caught his eye and, darn it, another class had ended.

  Once again he went through the motions of the school week while he looked forward to Saturday. Unlike Ava, who was now getting bored with skating.

  “Makayla’s going to the mall Saturday morning,” she said on Thursday. “I wish I could go.”

  “What about skating?” said Mateo.

  “I know, but I haven’t been to the mall in like forever.” Ava redid her ponytail. “I’ll keep going, do the last three lessons, but after that I’m so done with it.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever.”

  At the fourth class, a new kid was there, wearing a super-long black T-shirt. Mateo wondered why he hadn’t shown up for the other classes. Mateo warmed up a minute and then took his place in the middle of the rink. The new kid lifted his heavy feet, first left, then right, until he had clunked his way over to stand next to Mateo. He was at least as tall as Mateo and twice as wide. Mateo’s bully radar kicked in. Not that Mateo was a wuss, he just always wanted to be on guard, ready to defend himself.

  “Hey,” the kid said. “You go to Franklin Middle School, right?”

  Uh, oh. Now Mateo really started to panic. For various reasons he wanted to keep his new little hobby secret. It seemed kind of sissy, rolling around a shiny floor in skates the same color the girls wore. Anybody halfway to cool would be hanging at a skate park, on boards or blades. Besides, if he ended up spending more time on the floor than gliding across it, he’d rather his whole school didn’t know he’d botched another sport. Mateo glanced around the rink. Hayley didn’t seem to be in the building yet.

  “I’ve got Johnson for homeroom,” the boy added.

  “Oh, right.” Mateo breathed a sigh of relief. Despite being bigger than him, the kid was only a sixth grader. And now that Mateo dared take a better look at him, he saw the boy had a pleasant, pudgy face and was wearing dorky knee-pads, and the same color skates as Mateo wore—so, all in all, Mateo decided he had to be harmless. “Yeah, I’m Mateo,” he said.

  “Dan.” With flailing limbs, the kid almost lost his balance. He swung his arms around, like a plump penguin trying to fly. Geez, thought Mateo, that must be how I looked when I started.

  Coach Ted got them busy. First some review and then a new move: backwards. Just as Mateo was getting the hang of going in the opposite direction, Hayley flew in, breathless and glowing.

  Mateo was feeling pretty good with his slowly progressing skating skills. And another boy his size stumbling around beside him made it all seem less corny.

  “Dan…Danny…slow it down. Too early in the game to start getting sloppy,” said Ted, coming up behind them. “Mateo, show Dan a nice, smooth turn.”

  Mateo presented his best spin yet.

  When he finished, Ted stared at Mateo’s skates. Then he nodded and said, “Not bad. Not bad at all. But for Dan, a basic turn. No spins yet.”

  Mateo showed Dan how to get into position. “Face the way you’re turning,” he said. A second later, Dan fell.

  “Ahhh,” he screeched. Unlike Mateo, Dan didn’t seem to care if the whole arena turned to gape at him. “Whoa, almost crushed my hand.”

  Mateo grinned. “Yep, first thing I learned was to keep my fingers away from those wheels. Can’t throw a baseball without ’em.”

  “You’re a baseball player?” said Dan.

  “Uh, yeah, sometimes. Anyway, keep your knees bent,” he said. “That’ll keep you more stable. You got it.” Mateo got into position himself, so he could explain how it worked. “Which leg is your dominant one?”

  “Huh, dominant?”

  “To kick a ball, which leg would you use?”

  Dan pointed to his right leg.

  “OK, good. Let’s move along slow and then we’ll make a large turn.” Mateo thought of all the tips he told himself when skating. They started across the floor. “Keep your eyes in the direction you’re turning and get your shoulders into it.” He tossed the words over his shoulder. When he turned, he could see Dan wobbling along behind him accomplishing an awkward loop.

  When they were back to where they’d started, Dan grinned from ear to ear. “I did it!”

  “Great. If you keep repeating it, you’ll get even better.”

  “Nah, I wanna try something new now.” Dan rolled over to where Coach Ted was showing a couple of little kids how to skate backwards.

  Mateo sighed. Dan probably wouldn’t last long in the class; looked like he got bored pretty quickly. Whatever. Now that he’d got Dan somewhat squared away on a basic turn, Mateo tried a harder one for himself. At first he couldn’t get the hang of the jump, so he did it over and over until his feet felt sore and blistered. Just when he almost got it perfect—slam—he was down on the floor again. Mateo checked his elbows and knees. Seemed whenever one bruise began to fade, he’d get a fresh one. Maybe he should give up on the abuse. What was the use? In the end, no one cared if he could spin on those old clunkers.

  “Is that the Mapes you’re working on?” Ted stared at Mateo, waiting for his answer.

  Mateo shrugged. “I guess. Something I saw you showing Alex.”

  Ted nodded. “This jump was invented by a man named Bruce Mapes. After you swing your leg out, stab the ground with it before completing the rotation.”

  Mateo tried it again.

  “Much better,” said Ted. He nodded once more, raising his eyebrows. “You’re full of surprises.”

  Mateo could feel himself grinning like an idiot. Maybe someday there’d be a Mateo García turn. Ha, fat chance. There he went again putting the horse before the cart or the cart before the horse, whichever way that weird saying that his history teacher often used went.

  After Ted moved on, Mateo tried the jump again, this time going too fast. He landed smack on his butt. He was glad Ted missed his fall, but then saw Hayley looking at him. Mateo watched her skate over from the other side of the rink, as he quickly stood back upright. She made skating look so darn easy.

  “Need some help?” Hayley swung her ponytail over one shoulder.

  “No, I’m good.” Mateo wobbled on his wheels, but tried to look cool. Not only was Hayley the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, but she was the same height as he was. Most of the girls at school had shot up taller. He was getting tired of waiting to catch up with them.

  After the lesson ended, when he was back in his sneakers, Mateo stretched out his sore legs and decided to hang around for a few more minutes. Alex usually took the floor after the beginner class was over. Mateo was starting to know the routine here at the rink.

  Alex was a good skater. He’d obviously been at it for years, but he wasn’t as good as Hayley. It’s like his heart wasn’t into it, like he was just going through the moves for something to do. Funny how you could see that right off in someone. Mateo watched Alex for almost a half hour while Ava talked with Gert over by the snack bar.

  The whole time Mateo watched Alex, he thought about how people might be born to do something. He wondered if it was true with all sports—that some people took more naturally to them. What if someone could be the best diver in the whole world, but they never even tried to swim? Another question popped into his head. Could he be the best at something?

  On his way out, Mateo stopped by the boys’ room. His big-haired head caught his eye in the mirror. He didn’t exactly look like how he pictured a skater would look. Then again, he wasn’t sure if he looked like a ballplayer either. He was beginning to think maybe his heart had never really been into baseball. Maybe he’d gone along with it just to hang out with Jason. After all, Jason had always been the one who liked practicing, not Mateo
.

  Since this was the first time they’d stayed that long on a Saturday, Mateo was surprised when he pushed through the doors to find a small line of people waiting for the public skating session to open. Feeling like a dweeb, he ducked his head and went around back to the bike rack.

  “Come on, slowpoke.” Ava leaned against the side of the concrete building. “I’ve been waiting, like, forever.”

  Mateo hopped onto his bike. “Yeah, I was watching Alex skate—trying to figure out why he bothers.” Mateo and his sister rode through the back of the industrial park, zigzagging around huge parked trucks.

  “I think he’s here instead of home with a babysitter,” said Ava. “His mom works on weekends, so she leaves him with Grandpa Ted.”

  “I guess so.” They rode their bikes onto the main road. “Do you think some people were born to do a sport?”

  “I can’t picture a baby on roller skates, if that’s what you mean,” said Ava.

  “Not what I meant,” Mateo called out over his shoulder. “I meant…”

  “What?” said Ava, calling from behind him, as a bus roared past.

  He shook his head. “Never mind.” Not the time for deep stuff. He kept in front of Ava, as they rode single file beside the heavy traffic.

  Chapter 5

  During the week, Mateo found himself thinking about roller skating more and more when he was supposed to be doing something else, like homework in study hall. And at home, before Ava arrived from school each day, he’d practice some of the moves on their living room carpet—minus the skates, of course. It was surprising he didn’t wear a hole in the rug as he repeatedly went through the motions of crashing safely and getting up smoothly. With only two classes left, he wanted to get all he could from them.

  At first he’d let Ava think she was talking him into each lesson. He never did admit to liking it; he just let her think she was dragging him along week after week. That way he could still back out if he changed his mind. After those first classes, he felt stiff. His legs ached, and his heels were covered in blisters, but all that eased up soon enough. Just as he figured, Dan never returned after that one class. That could have been me, thought Mateo. He felt proud that he’d stuck it out. Seemed funny how he liked skating now more than Ava did.

  Hayley was at every lesson, but unless he needed help, she rarely gave him a glance. She was all business and spent time helping the little kids as they went through their maneuvers. He wasn’t falling nearly as much as at the first lesson, and some weeks, he didn’t stumble at all. Ha, thought Mateo, maybe I should fake a fall to get Hayley’s attention.

  Now Ava, she didn’t mind falling. And she fell a lot. Every time she did, she’d laugh her head off. And then by the time they reached home she’d already be thinking of what she was going to do next. Like skating didn’t even matter. Not Mateo. He took those lessons seriously, and wanted to show that he could be good at something after all. And maybe, just maybe, that something was skating.

  By the sixth lesson, he could stop, drop, and roll, as he liked to call it. Coach Ted, however, had a new challenge for them. A bunch of cones were set up a couple of feet apart from each other, across the length of the floor.

  “Let’s skate at a comfortable speed, weaving in and out to pass on alternate sides of the markers,” said Ted. “Try not to bump them too much with your skates.”

  Mateo couldn’t wait to get out on the floor. He was pretty sure he could ace those complicated moves. When it was his turn, he pushed off fast and confident. He zigged to the left, zagged to the right. He was killin’ it! And he only crashed into one cone. It felt amazing.

  Then, when they got a second shot at it, he used the latest move he’d learned for his return trip back around the cones, back to where he’d started. The move was called, weirdly enough, shoot-the-duck. Mateo squatted down, bent one leg, and stretched out the other in front of him, so he was pretty much sitting down on one heel as he zoomed back across the floor. He was still wobbly but got himself across the rink without slowing down.

  “Looking good,” said Ted. He skated up beside him, out of earshot of the other kids. “Will you be continuing with your lessons, Mateo?”

  Mateo had always assumed this skating biz was a temporary thing. This sixth class was supposed to be his final time. But a lot had changed in six weeks. Skating was fun. He had put his all into it to get what he could from the free classes. Still, the idea of more lessons had never entered his head. His family wasn’t the type to take classes—those were for rich kids.

  “I doubt it,” he said with a shrug.

  “Well, if you’re interested, I can give you a discounted price for more lessons.”

  Mateo looked up at Ted.

  “In fact,” Ted added, “if you’re really interested in making a commitment, there are some odd jobs around here—like working at the snack bar—that would probably pay for your lessons in full.”

  Mateo looked down at the ripped sweatshirt he’d been wearing every Saturday and felt crummy. “That’s okay. I don’t need any handouts. I’m just not so sure I want to hang out here week after week.”

  Mateo could have sworn he saw Ted’s face sag at his words. Then Ted spoke, not in his usual loud tone, but softly. “I’m not trying to insult you, Mateo. You’d be doing me a favor if you stuck with this.”

  Mateo studied him, tried to figure out what he was talking about—saw the old-man lines all over his face, gray hair surrounding the bald spot on top of his head. For the first time he noticed a little thing coming out of his ear, some kind of hearing aid. Probably why he felt Ted was always staring hard at him when he spoke.

  “It’s difficult to find good male skaters these days,” Ted said. “Most kids are too busy playing soccer and half a dozen other sports. I don’t say this to many of my students, but you’ve got the ability to go far.”

  “Go far?” echoed Mateo.

  “There are competitions at the state and national level. Hayley here,” Ted nodded across the floor at Hayley who was skating backwards at full speed, “is one of our champs. She got the silver medal in figures last year.”

  Mateo nodded, wondering what in the world that had to do with him.

  “Not to put pressure on you, but we sure could use a strong boy skater at this rink. And Hayley needs a partner.”

  Right on cue, Hayley scraped to a stop beside them and flashed Mateo a bright smile.

  “Yep, I need a partner. There are so many more events I could be doing if I had someone to practice with. Are you really going to keep skating?” She rolled closer and looked at him expectantly. He could smell a sweet fruity flavor, probably from her shiny lip-gloss. Ted had turned around to help one of the little kids stumbling past, so it was just Hayley and Mateo standing eyeball to eyeball.

  Mateo looked away and shrugged; his mouth didn’t seem to be working again. All of a sudden Hayley was speaking to him as though it would be no big deal for them to hang out together. Maybe she hadn’t bothered to know him in case he wasn’t in this for the long run. Maybe other guys, like Dan, always quit. Or, maybe they didn’t learn as fast as Mateo. Maybe he was good at something. He wobbled as Alex flew past them, skating too fast and too close. Mateo remembered how great it felt to zoom back and forth around those markers. Out of habit, he shoved his hair down, then forced himself to say, “Maybe.”

  Ted turned back to him. “Think it over, Mateo. Remember what I said. The snack bar’s waiting for you any time you want to make a commitment. If you can get here an hour early on Saturdays, I’ll give you extra lessons. Maybe even get you into some better skates someday. Then in the afternoons, you can help out with concessions. Gert could really use your assistance, rather than running back and forth between there and the ticket booth.”

  “That’s for sure,” said Hayley, turning to leave.

  Mateo watched Hayley skate to the other side of th
e floor and then said, “Thanks, Coach, I’ll let you know.”

  Ava was already out of her skates and checking out the skate shop stuff. Mateo glided to a bench to take his skates off for maybe the last time. Whoa: his head was spinning faster than his wheels. Ted had mentioned new skates. He’d have to give this some serious thought. Competitions, though. He’d never be good enough for any of that stuff. Besides, he didn’t want to fall deeper into this weird sport. Much as he wanted to hang out with Hayley, Mamá might freak out if he started spending too much time at the rink. Maybe it would be easier to just call it quits.

  Chapter 6

  On Friday, Franklin Middle School had a school-wide meeting in the gym. Kind of a pep rally for the baseball team. A loud humming of voices spread through the room while kids found their seats. Mateo watched people pass by, half-paying attention, when he thought he saw Hayley. The girl had her back to him—same hair, maybe the same walk. He stood up to see better. Then she turned. It wasn’t Hayley.

  That got him thinking about roller-skating. Again. He sat back down on the hard wooden bench. All week, thoughts of roller-skating had filled his head. Sometimes he thought he’d be crazy not to jump at Ted’s offer. Other times he figured, opportunity or not, maybe skating was a waste of time. It certainly wasn’t on Mamá’s list of skills that would later make big bucks.

  Loud clapping began and he watched Jason and his teammates walk across the gymnasium to take their place on big slabs of wood set up to look like a stage. Did Mateo still wish he could be one of them? He guessed he still liked baseball, but couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought about playing the game. Since it had ditched him first, he might as well ditch the whole idea of living and breathing baseball. He sighed and slunk lower in his seat.

  Then everyone stood and cheered for the team. Kids from the younger grades stood in front of his row, lower down on the bleachers. One of them—a big guy—looked around until his eyes landed on Mateo. Dan—the kid who’d been to one skating lesson! He gave Mateo a half wave and Mateo nodded his head and grinned in return.